Momentum’s Hand

Who knew before tomorrow was imagined in the sand

That footsteps would erase fears

A hand’s soft imprint appears

Lightly pushing me forward unwittingly

Towards momentum’s outstretched hand


Sound of Silence

Vapors escape skyward, just out of reach

Parched, a salty taste remains, overwhelming the senses

Shimmering illusions lie at horizon’s edge

Awaiting my arrival, long lost friends

Distance remains, gaps never seem to close

Undeterred, reminders float within eyesight 

Mirages existing in the sounds of silence

Distant Parched Vistas

Guilty quiet empty roads, simmering off the grid

Distant parched vistas, pale warnings of tomorrow’s fears

Reflections off mirages return my gaze, real or not, the feelings are the same

Brushing my hand back and forth, they disappear, but cling to my thoughts wherever I go